


Pink Champagne

by SepZet



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Prompt Fill, Strip Tease, sex in champagne
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-25
Updated: 2017-01-25
Packaged: 2018-09-19 20:35:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9459458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SepZet/pseuds/SepZet
Summary: Jack Morrison must go undercover at a wealthy Oasis strip club in order to find a target, but he ends up finding something else entirely more interesting.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Prompted by anonymous.

He couldn’t claim it to be the strangest recon mission he had ever been on, but it was right up there.

“Your whiskey, sir. Please enjoy your Yamazaki well.” The bartender slid the glass over with a small bow, lingering there like he expected something more.

“Thanks,” Jack growled, plucking up his glass. He’d kill for a beer, but six-figure whiskey would have to do that evening. After all, it wouldn’t do to appear as anything less than the richest businessman possible. Not that he thought he passed very well as one, but everyone else was either too drunk or preoccupied to care. He fit the bill, if only barely.

The Oasis was a haven to those who could afford it. Riches flowed from every nook and cranny, providing luxurious respite and the perfect amount of anonymity. Those who came could pay for silence, and often did. Whether they had something to hide or not, nothing was kept track of, nothing was ever reported on within certain circles.

The old city of Las Vegas had nothing on Oasis.

What happened in Oasis, died with all the witnesses.

Turning back to face the club, he lifted his glass, taking a moment to turn his head slowly, scanning the people inside. The Aljann Club in Oasis was the known hideout for a notorious group of killers, ones who found innocent Omnics and corrupted their code. It was enough to put distrust in every Omnic, far beyond the usual paranoia. It wouldn’t do. They needed peace, on all fronts.

And Jack was the one to handle it.

“You’ll blend in the best of us all,” Winston had said, fussing over his weaponry that he was taking in to Aljann. “Find them, and remove them.”

“And I fit better why?” Jack had sniffed in distaste as Tracer zipped around him, taking various measurements for the custom suit they were making for him.

“Because McCree would not pass as a wealthy businessman. He’d attract too much attention. You’re the only man that could pass.” Winston had frowned, holding a pair of glasses up to the light. “You’ll look like you’ll belong.”

Sure, because he was old.

Either way, he had warmed up to the idea some, if only to be given the chance to go to a really nice strip club. Places with that much money had to have some truly gorgeous women, and he was still a fan of that, to say the least.

Except none of the strippers looked any good to him. They were lovely, sure, but not his type. The one on stage had artificial legs and massively enhanced tits, making her look like she was liable to tip over at any moment. No good. A few wandered around on the floor that looked nice, but still. Nothing really tempting. Not his type, not really what he would want to hire.

Tapping his finger against the underside of his glasses to nudge them up higher on his nose, he wandered over to a booth to the side, close enough to the stage for a good view, but positioned just right for him to get a look at all the other patrons. That way, he could side eye the dancers while allowing the hidden camera in his glasses to do its work. He’d have to review the footage later, see if there was anything he missed.

Jack leaned back in the plush seats, sighing heavily as he kicked his feet up. Part of it was to look like he was properly at home in the place, but the other part was simply because he was tired. He’d been there for over an hour already, and not much had happened. He saw a few businessmen wave money frantically at passing dancers, saw one guy try and get in the front door without any of the proper bribing, and saw a few dances from dancers that weren’t his type.

Boring.

He knew of a better strip club back in Miami, with prettier girls. Sure, they didn’t have the glitz and glam like the Aljann, but they had spirit. They were bright, alluring woman with tantalizing hips, swinging just right as they smiled and wandered closer. One such visit had him the most fortunate man alive, with few other customers and money to spare. A private room with three of them had been his evening, one to remember.

One he would have to repeat once he got back. It’d been a while since he’d let loose, let himself savor a woman. He had his professionalism, sure, but there was something about certain women that just broke him. Rigid training be damned, he knew what he liked and he knew how to make a woman howl.

He had his vices, and he was happy to let them take over once in a while.

A wry smile tugged at his lips as he lifted his glass. There was something special about the surprise in their eyes when an old man made them come that hard.

Not that there was anything there that he wanted to play with.

Sighing, he knocked back the rest of his whiskey, hissing at the burn down his throat. Waste of his time to be there. They could just as easily set up some surveillance system in there, let it do the same work. Didn’t they have some low profile camera systems already?

Dropping his feet, he started to rise. He’d be better off just dropping his glasses somewhere, let them do the recording for him. No one would suspect a set of reading glasses if they were left in a place that anyone could forget them.

The clack of heels just past him made him pause, attention catching on a rather long set of legs, attached to a trim, tight body. Gold glittered on every inch, filigree arcing over swaying hips. Whoever she was, she caught the eye and demanded it, even before she reached the stage. Once she stepped up, she caught the dancing girl by the arm before promptly shoving her off, taking the stage by force with a confident air and smug smile. She knew she was better even before she started to dance, completely ignoring the angry cursing the other stripper shot her way.

Oh.

Sinking back down in his seat, Jack found himself quite unable to turn his eyes or his camera away from the woman up on stage. She was gorgeous. She was so lithe and smooth, her chin lifted in a haughty air that denied any distraction. She knew she was beautiful, and she moved like it, hooking her leg around the pole as she grabbed it with slim fingers, lifting herself with absolute ease.

She moved like a snake, like a cat, like something graceful and deadly. Each movement was calculated and precise, displaying her body and strength like it was a game. When she gripped the pole with her thighs and arched back, he found his breath leaving him in a rush, captivated by the smooth curve of her back. She was so perfectly flexible, so gorgeous.

It would be a damn treat to see her arch like that underneath him.

Throat clicking with the force of his swallow, he leaned back, letting himself watch her dance. Absolutely captivating, she was. Her outfit was tight, lovely, but revealing much less than the other girls in the club. It was like she didn’t belong there, a creature out of a dream to torture him.

Come to think of it, her outfit didn’t match at all. Glittering gold and almost modest compared to the others, she didn’t fit in even a little. All the other women had red and silver, to match the theme of the club that night. There were the silly dress codes at Aljann, and even the guests were forced to match. He even had to wear a goddamn red tie to be able to get in.

But she was gold, and she was perfect.

Eyes narrowing, he let his eyes rake over her again, looking for some detail. It was hard to not focus on the way she tossed her hair back, her perfectly braided hair flipping like she was in ecstasy. Focus just a little, take in some kind of detail and…

Her skin. Her skin wasn’t right. And he knew that skin.

Widowmaker was there. What a strange coincidence.

He expected the knowledge of her identity to make his attention flag, but if anything, it made him more interested. Of course she went the route of disguising herself as a stripper. She certainly couldn’t pass for a businessman. There were virtually no women in the club besides strippers. It was the perfect disguise, really, except for the wrong outfit and the fact that she took the stage. If she wanted to be undercover, she should have just wandered the club. But no, she was up on stage, dancing and swaying her hips like she wanted everyone to look at her.

And then her eyes met his, and she smiled.

That made his dick twitch more than it had any right to. Still, it had happened, and he could try to rationalize it as much as he wanted, but what was the point? Widowmaker had always been a gorgeous woman, even before she had been taken and twisted by Talon. The fact that she seemed to be aware of his presence and just kept dancing, well, that just made it better.

Her eyes lingered on him as she slid down the pole, sticking her lovely ass out as she bent at the waist, folding in half perfectly. It was almost like she was dancing just for him, but that would be silly.

Wouldn’t it?

There was really only one way to find out, and either way, what was the harm? If she was, then hey, maybe something more interesting could happen. If she wasn’t they were enemies anyways. No harm, no foul.

With her eyes on him, he spread his legs a bit more, letting his free hand rest comfortably next to the shape of his cock. He wasn’t even at half mast, but it was enough. He could almost feel her eyes flick to it, before she turned away, flipping her hair as if she was bored.

Oh, was that how she wanted to play it?

Fighting the urge to grin, he watched her turn away from him, her hips swaying slowly from side to side even as she cast a disinterested glance over her shoulder at him. That time, he didn’t bother trying to hide as he let his eyes trail over her, a slow, obvious drag that couldn’t be mistaken for anything else.

Again, she spun away from it, focusing on dancing for a moment before returning her attention to him. Figuring being sly was enough, he lifted a hand, crooking a finger her way.

Come here, sweet thing. Come to play.

Hanging off of the pole, Widowmaker made a point of looking like she was thinking hard, even pressing a finger to her perfect, pouty lips. Eventually shrugging, she drew away from the pole, wandering away with a slow step. Each one was so precisely placed as she wandered over, hand on her hip until she came to stop beside his table.

“Look who it is,” she sighed, sounding bored. “An old man.”

“Widowmaker,” he purred, taking in the sight of her all the more greedily. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“Amélie, if you please.” Waving that off, she crossed her arms over her chest, arching a brow. “What might you be doing here?”

“Same as you, I imagine. Work is a rather stressful, demanding task, after all. It’s nice to take a break.” It was a lie, but who needed to focus on work? It wasn’t a place to fight, and he didn’t even want to. Not with her. Not when she had been dancing like that, and not when he was that hard.

At that, both of her brows shot up, genuine surprise flitting over her features.

“Why don’t you join me?” He gestured to the booth beside him, keeping his smile calm and welcoming.

“I suppose,” she sighed again, sliding in beside him. Without a pause, she reached over to take his empty class, dipping a finger inside to swipe up some of the remaining liquid. Humming, she slid the finger into her mouth. “Whiskey. I took you for more of a beer kind of man.”

“I am,” he agreed, turning to face her a bit better. She had all of his attention after all. No point in trying to be sneaky about it. “But I thought I’d try something new.”

“New things can be quite fun.” Amélie rested her chin on her hand, blinking slowly as she looked right back, her lashes a delicate brush against her cheeks. “Is that why you are here, old man? To try something new?”

“Perhaps, if you’ll let me.”

“Oh? Let you what?”

“Try you.”

Okay, so maybe he wasn’t the slyest of men when it came to flirting, but he’d never claimed to be anything different. What was the point of arguing it? Most of the people he saw on a regular basis had no idea of his filthier side, and that was fine. The hard part was balancing direct and creepy.

“I doubt you can make it worth my while, old man,” Amélie sighed, turning her head away so sharply that her braid managed to swat his cheek. “I have no patience for geriatrics.”

“You’ll find me quite surprising, I think.” Reaching up, he let his hand trail over her shoulder, settling over the back of her neck. “And I think you know that.”

“What makes you say that?”

“You came to sit with me, didn’t you?” He gave her back of her neck a light squeeze before letting his hand slide down her arm, resting on her thigh. “Aren’t you cold?”

“Mm?” She leaned back, glancing rather haughtily down at his hand. “Perhaps. What do you suggest? That you warm me back up?”

“Possibly. Why don’t you take a seat in my lap?” Again, not very sly, but sometimes direct did its work. What he said was enough to make her eyes light up a bit, just a bit, but sometimes an inch in the right direction was all that was needed.

She blinked slowly, like a contented cat, a soft smile touching her lips. She seemed to hesitate, but eventually turned, brushing the table further back so she had enough room to take a seat in his lap, facing him. With a haughty flip of her hair, she rested her arms lightly around his neck, that smile still remaining.

“There we go,” he cooed, letting his hands rest on her waist. “A little bit better, right?”

“I suppose,” she sighed. “Now what, old man? More overly confident flirtations?”

“No, I don’t think so.”

No, now that he had her in his lap, he had much better things in mind. Sliding a hand up her spine, he coaxed her forward. There was a flicker of surprise in her eyes for just a moment, but she responded quickly enough.

Kissing her tasted slightly of lipstick and whisky, but she was better than anything else he had ever tasted. She was soft and plush against him, body pressing against his like it belonged there. While he was broad and strong, she was slim and fast, and he really liked the opportunities that presented.

She stayed close, letting the kisses linger. She must have enjoyed it more than he assumed she would have. Since Amélie didn’t respond badly, he might as well take a chance and take something that he wanted. His hands shifted back, wandering down until they rested over the curve of her ass. One of her finest assets, of course, and he was more than happy to savor it. When he squeezed, she let out a curious sound, back arching slightly until she broke the kiss.

“Well. Straight to the point, mm?”

“Hang on; I wasn’t done.” Drawing her back in, he kissed her again, a bit more aggressively. He wanted to feel her breath, feel what life was left within her. She responded quickly enough, her grip tightening around his neck. She liked the dominance, apparently.

He had to go for it. She was already playing his game, kissing back and staying in his lap. He’d never get another opportunity, and when he fought her in the future, he wanted to be able to always remember how they had been together, how she’d looked underneath him as he fucked her into the mattress.

“Play with me,” he growled, fingers gripping her ass just a touch too hard. “I’ll show you how fun I can be.” It was impossible to not let his lips trail over her cheek, pressing slowly at the curve of her jaw, then sliding down lower. The delicate column of her neck was just too tempting, coaxing him into kissing there, feeling that slow pulse flutter just a little bit faster; life still lingered within her, and it seemed the feel of his lips and tongue on her was enough to bring it forth stronger.

“Perhaps.” Her voice was just a breath of a promise, but it sent a thrill straight through him. His cock throbbed with even just the idea of being able to coax her into playing with him, and the way she moved made it seem like he had succeeded. It was like she held him by a leash as she slid out of his lap, stretching and arching her back before she turned, offering her hand to him. “Come along, old man. We shall play your game my way.”

Even if her way turned out to be terrible, he was willing to take that chance. Brushing his glasses up higher on his nose, he reached out to take her hand, letting her guide him from his booth. He allowed himself the pleasure of watching her hips sway as she walked, his hidden camera doing a rather spectacular job of recording every moment. While she was a thin woman, she had a truly fantastic ass. Must have been from all her running in heels. Whatever it was, he was grateful for it.

When the lighting abruptly changed, he had to look up. She had led them into a private room, one that the other, actual strippers had been using with the little more generous of the patrons. Never really thought he would see the inside of one, but hey, he was more than happy to see it for himself. It was larger and more lavish than he thought it would ever be, with a small stage along the far wall. The stage was fronted by just a single couch, for private shows, he presumed. There was a bed and bar on the opposite wall, as well as some kind of strange, shallow bath tub, but really, he was most interested in the bed and getting her into it.

Jack rumbled out a pleased groan at the prospect of being alone, sliding up behind her so he could feel her, only for that sound to change into a disgruntled huff when she pulled away.

“Not so fast, old man. We will play my way.” Again, that teasing smile was back on her lips as she turned to face him, letting go of his hand if only so she could trail her fingers over his chest. Casting a glance over her shoulder, she hummed softly. “Perhaps you should make yourself comfortable on that couch there.”

“Oh?” He felt his brow lift curiously. “Plan on giving me a show?”

“If you are going to dance with the spider, you might as well see what web she can weave.” She patted his chest lightly, turning away. “Sit. I will entertain you.”

Of that, he had no doubt. Fighting the urge to grin, he went to the couch, settling down with spread legs. His cock was still sitting at half mast, but even the idea that Amélie was going to give him a private dance made his cock twitch with interest. It had been an age since he’d had a lap dance, and getting one from the Widowmaker herself was an absolute treat.

Once he was settled, she wandered over to the stereo system along the wall, fiddling with the selection until roiling burlesque music started to fill the room. It was almost a classic, something that he knew was perfect for her to dance to. It suited her, suited the air that she let out, and he felt a little bit honored that she was going to continue to follow her usual style to entertain him.

Amélie let out a satisfied hum as she strode back over, taking a moment to stroke her hand over his shoulders before she rounded the couch, coming up in front of him.

“Hello there,” he crooned, grinning when she smiled back. “What have you got in mind?”

“I am curious to see how much I can rile you up, old man. And I know just how to do that.” Reaching out, she cupped his jaw. “So sit back, and enjoy.”

“Will do.” Slumping back, he admired the up-close view he had of her. Such grace and perfect curves, he could almost be happy with just the sight of her.

Almost.

Following the beat of the music, she started to roll her hips, trailing her hands up over her body. She followed every curve of her frame, one hand lingering over the gleaming golden lace on her chest, squeezing lightly.

“Is this where you tell me that you’ve always admired me from afar?” So he got talkative when his cock got hard. There was no shame in that, right?

“Your teasing is not clever,” Amélie sighed, moving forward so she was standing between his knees, even while still dancing. “You are not clever.”

“And yet you’re still dancing for me.” He reached out, letting himself savor a touch over her thigh, stroking down until she swatted at him. “I dare say you’re into my bad jokes.”

“Maybe they have a bit of charm.” She turned away, bending down and pretty much displaying nothing but her ass to him. “It reminds me that one of my enemies is a fool.”

He just hummed at that, reaching out to grip a handful of her ass, savoring the tightness of it. He’d always favored asses over tits, and Amélie was the prime specimen to solidify that fact. When she didn’t swat at him to stop touching her, he drew back his hand, slapping his palm down hard on glittering gold. The answering crack that earned him was hot as fuck, but the way her ass jiggled was so much better.

“Hey,” she huffed, standing back up to scowl at him over her shoulder.

“Hey yourself.” He smirked back, slapping again.

“Eh.” She finally swatted at him, turning around so she could actually slide onto the couch, straddling his lap. Her body rolled forward, brushing her chest so close to his face that he settled back sharply, if only to get a better view. “Smack me again and I will leave you alone and aching, old man.”

“You’d break my heart,” he purred, placing his hands on her hips again as she arched back, just a smooth line of her body laid out before him. It was impossible to resist trailing a hand up, cupping over one of her breasts to savor the feel of the softness against his palm. Most of her was lean and long, but there were some parts of her that remained soft.

“So handsy.” Sighing, she arched back up, leaning close to his face. “You worship me.”

“There’s a lot to enjoy. Don’t let it go to your head.” Now that she was so close, he leaned up and captured her lips in another kiss.

Her swaying and dancing slowed, finally stilling so she could just kiss back. Yes, her attentions were finally getting him raring to go. Encouraged by her responsiveness, he let a hand creep down, between her legs, cupping over her crotch. There, he could feel her heat. She still had a life in her, and of course he could feel it best in her cunt. He’d laugh if it wasn’t so hot.

Tensing his fingers, her rubbed two more certainly over the line of her cunt, intent on teasing her clit through her clothes. He just had to make sure that she was on the same level as he was.

“Oh. Hang on.” She drew back, patting his chest. “I have an idea that you might enjoy.”

“Oh? And what might that be? You could add a little stripping to the dance and I’d be happy enough.” Well, that wasn’t true. Some of his favorite parts about being with a woman was seeing her features screw up in pleasure when he finally made them come.

“Hang on. I have something better in mind.” She slid out of his lap, pausing so she could press her finger against his lips. “Just sit here, old man. Allow me to treat you to a show.”

“By all means.” Foreplay. Right. Jack settled back, reaching down to stroke and knead at his cock through his slacks, watching as she disappeared behind the stage.

He could be patient.

For a while, all he could hear was the clack of her heels behind the red velvet curtain, but he was a patient man. He would be patient. For her. She was worth it.

“Ah, merde.” There was a shuffle behind the curtain, then a click of something heavy, and a sharp slide. Shortly after, the clatter of many pieces of glass hitting each other sounded much too forceful.

“You doing okay back there?” Reaching down, he had to adjust his cock in his slacks, letting it rest a little more comfortably. “Need help?”

“No. Sit there. I’ve got this.” Such a pouty argument. “Just a little setback.”

“I’m honestly quite flattered that you’re going through so much effort for me,” he chuckled, squeezing lightly at his handful. “It’s like you’re trying to impress me.”

“I do not to anything half way, old man. You should know this by now. Now just be silent while I show you how talented I am.”

“I have no doubt that you are.” He really didn’t.

“You are not special. I would do this with anyone.”

Why was she still explaining herself? It was hilarious, really, but he had to keep himself silent. No need to upset her. “Of course,” he finally managed to say, hoping his sigh hid how much he wanted to chuckle.

“I am being serious.”

“Right.” Was she wasting time? Was she embarrassed? She didn’t sound like it, but he didn’t take her for a woman to make excuses for things. Maybe he was more intimidating than he thought he was. “What show am I waiting for?”

“Silence.”

At her final command, the curtain finally started to lift, revealing the warmly lit stage. At first, it seemed empty, but then he noted the glass base in the middle and the legs of a low table beside it. The more the curtain rose, the more glass was revealed, rising into a thin stem and a wide, slanted bowl, resembling a massive martini glass. The table revealed itself to be laden with an almost ridiculous amount of champagne bottles. And inside of the martini glass perched Amélie, reclined luxuriously, her legs crossed. She was like a pinup, that smile on her lips like she knew she was gorgeous. With a flick of her wrist, she flipped her hair back over her shoulder, showing off her delicate frame. So thin and graceful, like a spider. Amélie knew all the power she held, even with just her physical appearance.

Once the music started to really ramp up, she uncrossed her legs, arching back to display herself. She even lifted her arms up, gripping the edge of the glass and tipping herself back, flipping over the rim until she was out of it. Her heels lit down on the stage with a loud clack, the sound sending a thrill up his spine.

Amélie smiled wide enough to show her teeth as she trailed her hands down the stem of the glass, bending down like it was a pole for her to dance on. As she rose back up, her hand settled on the rim of the glass as she strode around it, her hips a guiding sway. Once she was beside the table, she plucked up a bottle.

“Going to have a drink?” When did his voice drop to such a husky purr? He might have been a little more turned on than he thought it was, but that was okay. He was happy to see where it was all taking the two of them.

“This champagne is cheap and it is not to my taste.” Amélie’s lip curled as she twisted the wire, popping the cork quickly enough.

Jack’s brow slowly lifted as he noted the pink liquid and the ace on the outside of the bottle. “Amélie, that is Arman de Brignac Brut Rose champagne.”

“I am surprised that you recognize it.” Tipping the bottle into the glass, she lifted a brow at him. “I did not take you for a fan of champagne.”

“I am when it’s ten grand a bottle.” He’d had a bottle of it once, a very long time ago. “You have an interesting attitude when it comes to alcohol.”

“Alcohol addles the mind and makes you lose focus. I have no time for it.” Once the bottle was empty, she tossed it aside, completely uncaring of how the glass shattered against the back wall of the stage. “However, I am a fan of the bubbles in champagne.”

Jack let out a curious sound, watching as she emptied most of the bottles into the glass, filling the massive martini glass with bubbling, pink liquid. Each bottle was unceremoniously thrown against the wall. Either Amélie had a thing for breaking bottles, or she had something against Arman de Brignac. Regardless, Jack was happy to watch as she filled the glass, simply because she managed to dance the whole time. She was an alluring woman, swaying her hips like it was a second thought. A dangerous woman able to move the way that she did…it was a truly wonderful thing.

She turned sharply, leaning against the side of the glass to slide down, her eyes on him. Once she rose back up, she hoisted herself with ease and promptly dipped into the champagne. She let out a soft laugh as the bubbles tickled up past her, and Jack couldn’t help but laugh as well. Nothing more enjoyable than seeing a woman having a damn good time.

Shifting herself on her knees, she cupped some of the champagne in her hands to pour it over herself, that teasing smile on her lips as she swayed and danced for him, in that glass of champagne. Decadence and allure, Amélie personified it all. It was so good to see her dance for him like that, just for him. Even the knowledge that perhaps she really was giving him special treatment made his cock twitch even harder with interest.

“You’re ruining your outfit,” he managed to rumble out, his throat feeling tight with arousal. All he wanted to do was growl and join her, but hey, he didn’t want to miss out on the show. He needed to see her completely bare. Her choice in outfits didn’t really leave much up to the imagination, but hey, seeing actual skin was so much better.

“You’re right,” Amélie purred back, tipping herself back into the champagne, kicking off her heels. They went spinning over his head, thudding onto the floor far behind the couch. Once that was dealt with, she started to roll down her stockings until they were bunched on her feet, allowing her to kick those off as well. With a slow roll and an arch of her back, she was up on her knees, her back to him as she reached up, starting to pull down the thin zipper along her side. Inching it down, her hips slid and popped with the music. As she shimmied, she worked down the glittering gold that had covered her, exposing first her smooth back, and finally, the delicious curve of her ass. Her body slid forward as she worked her outfit down off of her legs, finally tossing it aside until she was naked in the glass, her skin covered in champagne.

Gorgeous. Simply gorgeous. Jack let out a soft moan as he watched her dance in the glass, praying that his glasses were getting every single beautiful detail. Something to remember the night by. For later enjoyment.

She was a vision of loveliness. She moved so perfectly, knowing just how to control her body. She was graceful as she leaned out of the glass to grab up another bottle, that playful smile still tugging at her lips as she slowly opened it, sending the cork shooting across the room. As the champagne bottle bubbled, she tipped it over, pouring it over the arc of her breasts, teasing and tempting and gorgeous. The pink champagne only showed how smooth and perfect she was, without a single hair on her body, just pure perfection.

That did it.

Rumbling out his appreciation, Jack shrugged off his jacket, then yanked off his tie. Tossing them both aside, he rose from the couch. It took a moment to think of it, but he eventually paused, pulling off his glasses and setting them on the back of the couch, the hidden camera positioned perfectly to have the stage completely in sight.

It took only a few hurried steps to be up on the stage, his eagerness apparently amusing to Amélie, as she laughed quite openly at him.

“So excited,” she cooed, rolling over so she could rest her chin on her hand, on the rim of the glass. “What were you planning on doing, old man?”

Gripping the edge of the glass, he easily hoisted himself up into it. The champagne splashed out sharply from his impact with the liquid. Amélie let out a sharp gasp of delight before laughing brightly.

“You are more fun than I anticipated,” she purred, shifting back so she could press her foot against his chest. “How shall we play now?”

“No more playing. No more games.” Pushing her leg aside, he surged over her, bracing his hands on the rim of the glass as he kissed her.

She finally responded more energetically, moaning as she arched up into it. He pressed his body down over hers, pinning her to the glass with his weight. While the champagne was cold, he could let himself focus on the gentle heat of her lips against his.

Dancing forgotten, Amélie curled her fingers in his shirt, pulling him closer. She was compliant under him, which was a bit of a surprise. With a woman as powerful as her, he expected her to demand dominance, but she just eased into it, eased into the way he kissed her.

Reaching down, he hitched one of her legs up so he could grind his hips down, against her crotch. The brush of the fabric against her cunt made her moan again, breaking the kiss to arch back.

“I dare say you’re more into this than you’re letting on, Amélie. That’s adorable.” As much as he wanted to keep teasing, her neck and chest was all exposed, and he couldn’t resist. Leaning in close, he peppered kisses over her throat, trailing down until he could latch onto one of her breasts. Her following moan was encouraging, not that he was uncertain of his abilities.

“Perhaps you are a little better at this than I imagined.” She pushed her chest closer to him, her fingers lacing in his hair.

“So you imagined fucking me before?” He grinned for a moment, then latched onto one of her nipples, suckling softly until she huffed. “I’d say I’m surprised, but I’m not. I am pretty sexy.”

“And modest.” She snorted, the sound dissolving into a groan when he ground down again. “You are only at an advantage because it has been a while.”

“Too busy,” he agreed, hooking his hand up under her other leg so he could push her up higher in the glass, so her lower half was out of the champagne. He wanted to be able to breathe as he kissed his way down her body, tasting the sweet champagne every inch of the way. Her breath sped up slightly in her excitement as he spread her legs. She was so compliant as his tongue found her cunt, lapping slowly against her.

The mix of her skin and the champagne was intoxicating, coaxing him into settling more comfortably in the glass as he savored the taste of her. Pressing his lips over her clit, he suckled ever so gently, arousal trickling down his spine when she sobbed in pleasure. He held her still with one hand, the other sliding down so he could push two fingers into her, curling deep and rubbing upwards until her hips started to roll forward. So compliant, so needy for his attentions. It was a bit of a surprise to enjoy, but he wasn’t about to question it.

Jack couldn’t resist opening his eyes, looking up the length of her body. Her head was tilted back just so he couldn’t see the look of pleasure on her face, but he knew it was there. He knew what he was doing, and he knew what affect he could have.

“Merde,” Amélie huffed, hands curling in his hair even tighter.

Hell yeah. Slowly pumping his fingers in and out, he let go of her clit so he could swirl his tongue against her instead. There was no need to overwhelm her too much. Besides, as much as he knew he could make her come that way, he really wanted to be inside of her when she did. His eyes fell shut again as he kept easing her closer and closer to orgasm, only to pull back a bit and let her recover. There was no need to rush, no need to race to the finish line.

Her hands slipped free of his hair, stroking over his shoulders for a moment, then drew away. He didn’t worry about it, figuring she was just relaxing into it until he heard the sharp pop of another bottle of champagne. He didn’t really much care about it until a wash of cool liquid drizzled down over her cunt, some slipping into his mouth.

He pulled back, lifting a brow up at her as she poured yet another bottle over herself.

“I did not want you to get thirsty.” That damn cute smile of hers. Such a flirt, so willing to play. It made him laugh, which she echoed shortly after.

Playful woman. It was a surprise, but he was happy about it, nevertheless. Just as long as everyone was having a good time, he could ignore that he really should be out there, out looking for his target. Whatever. His target wasn’t as important as making Amélie come.

Jack drew back sharply, letting go of her completely to let her splash back down into the champagne. She yelped softly in surprise, pouting at him as she tossed the empty bottle aside.

“Just thought we should even the playing field.” He shrugged as he started to unbutton his shirt, pulling it out of his belt so he could take it off, throwing it aside.

The moment his chest was exposed, she leaned up again, her delicate hands stroking over his shoulders, down his arms, and back up again. Once at his shoulders again, they slid down over his chest, taking in every detail. Her touch fluttered over the scars that she found, touching so lightly, almost teasing. She was enjoying every little bit of what he had to offer, at least until her hands came to rest on his belt.

“Go on,” he urged, reaching down to stroke his palms over her legs. “I know you want to.”

“I am curious to see what you have,” she agreed, slowly pulling at his belt until it was unhooked, drawing it out through the loops. Tossing the belt, she got to work on his pants, unbuttoning them with soft tugs, then drew down the zipper.

It was hard not to moan as her hand dipped in, cupping over his erection through his boxers, squeezing softly. She just felt the shape of him, so teasingly slow, like she was intimidated by it. He knew better, knew that Amélie had plenty of experience with men, but it was nice to be able to be with her, for one night.

Finally, she pulled him free, her palm stroking under his cock to coax him up. She let out a pleased hum, curling her fingers around him to squeeze again.

“Not bad, old man. Not bad at all.”

“Thank you for your approval.” He took her hand in his own, coaxing her into squeezing a bit harder. “I like it a little rough.”

“Do you?” She started to actually stroke him, keeping her grip just perfect. “Of course you do. You do seem to be a rough man.”

“I can be.” Following her touch, he leaned in and kissed her again. Amélie was surprisingly compliant with him, following his lead. Either way, it was good. He was just in the mood to have a good goddamn time with her.

“Would you like me to show you how talented I am with my tongue?” Her voice was just a smooth purr, her accent so damn alluring that it was a crime. “I bet I could drive you wild, old man.”

“I’m sure you could. But maybe another time, Amélie. Right now, I just want to feel you.” He pulled her hand away from his cock, gripping her hips to guide her closer, letting his cock stroke against her cunt as he rolled his hips forward. “If that’s okay with you.”

“Hm. You want me to just lay back, and let you have your way with me?” She hummed softly, tapping a finger against her lips as she pretended to think. “I suppose I could deal with that, provided you are as good as you seem to think you are.”

“I am good,” Jack growled, thrusting a little harder against her. “And I think you know that.”

“Nonsense. You have proved nothing to me.” Despite her words, she slowly dragged her tongue over her plump lips, her eyes trailing over him. “All you have shown to me is that you are an impatient man that cannot truly take the time to enjoy what a dance could be.”

She was teasing him, that was for sure. Trying to rile him up, get him to be more intense. Perhaps she liked it rough, just like he did. Either way, he wasn’t going to go at any pace other than his own. Feeling the slick slide of his cock against her cunt was exactly what he wanted, and he was going to savor it, dammit. Sure, he had the video to watch later, but there was nothing better than the moment to live in.

Sitting back a little, he pressed a finger to his cock, guiding himself down so the head nudged against her, just barely pressing in. He wasn’t so focused as to not hear the way she inhaled sharply, her thighs tensing slightly in anticipation. Hah. She was just playing herself off. What a tease.

Fighting to keep his groan mostly to himself, he slowly slid inwards, savoring her heat. She wasn’t as intensely hot as any other woman he had been with, but it was still good. It was still perfect. Just like her.

He really didn’t need to try and be quiet himself, as she didn’t have the same control. She moaned quiet loudly, hips jerking downwards to take him all at once, taking every inch in one sharp movement.

Gorgeous. The pleasure of it made her eyes flutter shut, her head tipping back in bliss. It seemed to be exactly what she wanted, as her body relaxed back, as if it was a relief to finally have him inside of her.

“Good?” He had to ask, reaching up to cup her cheek, smoothing his thumb over her soft skin. It felt like it was pretty obvious to him, but he could never be too sure. Better to hear it exactly that the person you were with than to guess.

“Good,” she agreed, her breath more of a sigh than anything else. “You feel quite good, Jack.”

“Using my name now?” He chuckled, leaning down so he could press a kiss to the edge of her lips. “All it took was actually being inside you, hm?”

“Shut up. Perhaps all I needed to know was that you wouldn’t come immediately the moment I let you inside of me.”

“Now we’re back to being mean. I’m not surprised.” Jack shifted forward, dragging his tongue up over her cheek, laughing when she squeaked in indignation. “Come on, Amélie. Relax a little.”

“Help me relax.” Her ankles hooked around his back, pulling him tight against her. “Fuck me, Jack.”

“Gladly.” Keeping a hand on her shoulder and the other on the back of the glass, Jack drew back before thrusting forward hard, jostling her in the champagne, sending some of it splashing up and out.

That first thrust made her gasp, as if she wasn’t expecting it. That was only more encouraging as he continued to thrust into her, groaning his pleasure under his breath. While he was able to pace himself and stay focused, she gave herself completely over to the good feelings he was giving her.

And god, it was beautiful. Her eyes fluttered shut and she just moaned so sweetly under her breath, her lips parted to let the sounds out freely. Her small breasts bounced with each movement, her back tensing into a line that kept her perfectly positioned to take his cock. Her hair was coming loose from her braid, drifting out into the champagne. The pink champagne looked so gorgeous against her skin; the soft purple and shimmering pink making her look like a work of art, a watercolor painting that he could touch and enjoy.

“Jack,” she gasped, reaching up so she could claw at his chest. “You feel so good, Jack.”

“Same to you.” It was hard to not be as breathless as she was, if only from how good she was to even look at. While his enhancements made it a lot easier to last a lot longer with a woman, seeing the pure bliss on her face was almost too much.

Only one way to deal with that.

Groaning, he drew out of her, shushing her when she started to complain. He had to unhook her legs from around him, but it was easy enough to coax her into rolling over. The only difficult thing was to get her to find purchase on her knees, her arms braced on the edge of the glass.

What a pretty sight, that was. The round orbs of her ass were absolutely a delicious picture, making him quite unable to not slap a hand over her ass, admiring the sharp jiggle that earned him.

“I’ll let that one slide,” she breathed, arching her back. “Come now, Jack. Don’t leave a woman waiting.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” Stroking his hands up her sides, he came up behind her, thrusting between her thighs a few times just to aggravate her. Her disappointed huff was too damn cute, but he was a weak enough man.

With a gentle touch, he coaxed himself back into her, sliding so deep inside her. Absolute gorgeous bliss, so warm and tight…

“Ride me,” he growled, squeezing her hips. “Show me how much you like my cock.”

“Filthy old man.” Amélie grumbled, wriggling her hips before leaning forward, then jerking her hips back again. She started up a slow pace of thrusting back against his cock, over and over, taking in the pleasure that he had to offer. Such movements made her ass shake each time, and that made it all the better. While he didn’t have a direct shot of seeing the enjoyment of her face, he could still see enough. He could see the darker flush on her cheeks, see her parted lips…

“Beautiful,” he purred, leaning over her back so he could reach down, pressing his fingers against her clit. “This feel good for you, Amélie?”

“It would be better if you did the work yourself,” she huffed, jerking herself back hard. “Wreck me, Jack. You know you want you.”

“Fair enough.” Nuzzling against the back of her neck, he cupped his free hand around her throat, holding her steady as he finally started to fuck her on his own strength. That made her sob, hands tightening hard on the edge of the glass.

So gorgeous. So wonderful, feeling the twitch of her cunt around his cock. She was receptive and sweet and so perfectly sculpted, he could hardly believe it. He couldn’t have asked for a better opportunity than to be able to fuck her.

“I’m getting close,” she gasped, her hand snapping back to scratch at his thigh, grabbing a handful of his pants. “Faster, Jack. Please.”

“Begging, now?” He chuckled, breathing in the scent of her perfumed hair. “I feel that good for you, Amélie?”

“Silence! Just…move faster. Please. I am going to come, oh please.”

Definitely desperate. How wonderful. Such a thrill up his spine, such a tease. He groaned under his breath, moving his hips faster against her, sloshing yet more champagne out of the glass. He still had a bit of a ways to go until he came undone, which made him grateful for his genetic enhancements.

Swirling his fingers against her clit, he jerked his hips forward hard, taking only a few more times before she choked on her breath, hands jerking against the edge of the glass as she came hard.

Her cunt clamped down hard around his cock, sending a shock of pleasure down his spine. It was enough to make him huff and have to struggle to focus. Why he wanted to focus for so long, he had no idea, but it was something he really wanted to do. He wanted to be able to prove himself to her, for some reason. Not that they would have another chance with each other, but he wanted her to think fondly of it before she sniped him.

Or maybe she would change her mind. Either way, he was just happy to live in the moment.

Once she stopped shuddering so hard, he drew out, kneading her back to soothe her. She just moaned sweetly, not moving from her position.

“I still need to finish, Amélie,” he breathed to her, pausing to squeeze her ass. “Okay if I keep going?”

“Yes. Ah, I know.” She brushed him back, sighing as she flopped onto her back underneath him. “Would you like to fuck my breasts, Jack?”

God, yes. Figuring he couldn’t answer intelligently, he just grinned, brushing his knuckles against her cheek to show his acceptance. She smiled back, pressing her hands to her breasts, to push them together.

Bracing himself against the side of the glass, he slid himself forward, letting his cock rest between her breasts. While she didn’t have much to offer in that department for some people, it was more than enough for him. She was just soft enough, and really, it was the view of her that mostly did it for him. She was looking up at him with such bright, pleased eyes, so ready for him to finish. She was waiting for it, her cheeks flushed and lips parted…so lovely.

Pleasure finally stroked through his veins as he came, his hips jerking forward sharply as his cock twitched, spilling seed over her collarbone and neck. A stray spurt of it landed on her chin, but she didn’t even flinch. It was like she was expecting it as a smile curled at her lips.

Breathing out slowly, Jack slumped a little, reaching down to stroke a touch over his cock, milking what was left from his cock. Careful not to put any weight on her chest, he slid to the side, slumping down into the champagne beside her. Most of the bubbles had been sloshed out, leaving the champagne rather flat and lukewarm around them. It wasn’t uncomfortable, even if it was soaked into his pants, making them stick to his legs.

“Well,” Amélie chuckled, letting her arms splash back down into the champagne, “you are full of surprises.”

“You too.” He reached up, smoothing his hand through his hair, brushing it off of his brow. “Who was your target, by the way? Maybe we were after the same people.”

“It does not matter.” Shifting onto her side, Amélie smiled down at him, reaching out to tickle her fingers over her chest. “What is done is done. And I enjoyed myself very much.”

He blinked slowly, lifting a brow. “I was your target, wasn’t I?”

Amélie tilted her head to the side, shrugging one lovely shoulder. “Who knows?” Leaning over, she planted a rather loud kiss on his cheek. “But I must go. Perhaps we will see each other again sometime in similar terms.”

“Perhaps.” Either way, he knew that as soon as he was back in his safe house, he was going to be reliving their night together through the carefully recorded footage his glasses picked up.

There were some uses to the tech they had. He was just glad he’d found another way to enjoy the uncomfortable glasses. May have to wear them more often.

Either way, it was nice to watch Amélie try to rebraid her champagne soaked hair.


End file.
